


Never Stay Silent

by homosuck413



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Collegestuck, Cutting, M/M, Sadstuck, Suicide Attempt, false death, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosuck413/pseuds/homosuck413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a bit of a cutting problem and when he thinks<br/>He loses Dave over it he decidecides to end it all. When<br/>His attempt fails though he realizes it was all a big mistake that will affect Dave and him for the rest of their life's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Stay Silent

**Author's Note:**

> So my friend and I had a Sadstuck war and this is what I wrote. It was written on my phone so there are some errors in it like names not capitalized or something like that, I'll be going back and editing when I'm able. But enjoy (:

          John sat in the corner of the bathroom, his knees against his chest and his arms hugging them tightly. He was worried, worried for his life. He knew he had bad habits but he was already addicted. On the floor was a small crimson puddle, dripping from his arm. Clean up John, your roommate will be home any second.

          John bit his lip and put his blade back into its place, a small ring box with a hidden compartment in the bottom. Placing it carefully back into the medicine mirror and grabbing some gauze he wrapped his arm and pulled down his hoodie sleeve. He grabbed a dark rag and began cleaning up the puddle. College was hard enough as it was, Johns cutting and pill addiction only made it harder for him to fit in, making his scars worse each day. It was definitely a problem, but not one he wanted to fix. Fuck, was that the door? his roommate must be home.

          John quickly shut the bathroom door with his foot, trying to finish cleaning the floor as quickly as possible, he had spilled too much.

         "John you home?" Dave called from the doorway. John took a breath to steady his shallow breathing before giving a confident reply, "Yeah just taking a piss, welcome back!" He could hear Dave walk into the kitchen and toss his bag on the counter, his usual routine.

       John quickly finished wiping up his mess and threw the rag into the sink. He flushed the toliet to make it seem as if he had actually used it and then turned the faucet on to wash his hands/rag. He ringed the blood out, watching the pink tinted water swirl down the drain, erasing all evidence of the cheery kids nasty fall back. He made sure his sleeve covered his bandages before walking out of the restroom and turning off the light behind him. His steps were taken with sway and his head spun. He knew he had cut to deeply this time, he knew he should bandage himself better to stop the slow trickle of blood that still flowed but he couldnt risk Dave finding out.

       Instead he wobbily walked into the kitchen and leaned heavily against the counter.

       "How was your classes?" He asked with a false smile. Dave shrugged, "Art was annoying as hell, all those assholes think their better than everyone else."

        "Don't you do the same?" John smirked.

        "Shut the fuck up. I'm ironic and don't even take half my art seriously." Dave grumbled.

        "Sure. That's why you spend countless nights cursing at your sketch pad." John chuckled slightly. Dave punched his arm playfully and John had to force himself to let out a laugh and not let his face scrunch in pain. That's not how this works. He had to cause the physical pain himself. Others were only allowed to leave emotional marks. That is how the whole thing started anyway.

           "Dude can we order Chinese or some shit? I don't feel like cooking and I doubt you are going to let me bail out of my night for making dinner." Dave huffed as he left the kitchen and went to plop on his bed.

         "Yeah sure. But your paying." John said, joining him in the bedroom. John sat on his own bed across the small room from Dave's and reached down to pull out his textbook for shopclass. John totally sucked at shop, but he liked to daydream about all the sharp objects. John would sit in the classroom breathing in the copper and woodshavings that never seemed to leave the air and stare for hours on end at one of the large saws. He imagined how it would feel to turn one on, to touch it as the blade spun at inhuman speeds. He imagined the blood, his life, pouring out of his veins and ending the misery he called life.

         While John zoned out Dave got on his cell phone which conveniently had his favorite Chinese place on speed dial. He ordered their food then looked over at John.

         "Need any help there Johnny boy?" He asked, sitting up and looking over at the overly looking complicationed picture of a large tool on Egberts text book. Dave was never sure why he wanted that class. He pretty much sucked ass at it and he could tell because John always had crappy test scores and would never show off his supposed skills to him.

              "Maybe. Just trying to figure out how to turn this thing on." John said pointing to the picture. Dave got up to get a closer look at the picture and frowned. It was sharp and large and there was no way he'd ever be able to help him out with that.

                "Sorry bro, I wouldn't know" he said. John shrugged and shut the book, ignoring his fascinations for now. Dave sat next to john on the bed, "Movie night? Finals are draining the shit out of me, I just want to relax for a night." John nodded and sat up. The tv was on a small table at the foot of Johns bed due to limited space, so whenever the two would have movie nights they'd just curl up under Johns sheets and bam, instant in bed theatre. There was nothing weird about it, just two bros who'd watch movies until they fell asleep. Perfectly normal. That's what John told himself to get his nerves to relax. That's how he coped with Dave's closeness. Dave grabbed an anime before John could get hold of something, any shitty movie with Nic Cage in it. Dave had seen enough of those during their movie nights. He started to think John only picked them to bug the fuck out of him. If so, it worked.

              Not ten minutes into the movie the door was knocked on and Dave happily got up to grab the food. John rolled onto his stomach as Dave presented him with the shitty Chinese that he seemed to love. He took his box and began to eat a bit, his appetite wasn't very big at the moment. Dave laid next to John, also on his stomach, and they continued to watch the movie. John found himself zoning out whenever he wasn't picking at his food and instead traced his finger over the arm he had earlier cut. He liked how he could still feel the sharp yet light sting of pain as he pressed down on the still scabing cuts. In fact, he was pretty sure they were still bleeding, at least some of the deeper ones. Dave eventually noticed John wasn't eating much and offered to take the box of food to the kitchen. When he came back however he asked if John was feeling alright. John shrugged and said yeah like he always did then turned his attention back to the screen. Dave noticed how John was running his finger down his arm and raised an eyebrow at it. What an odd thing to do. Dave paused the movie and sat beside John.

               "Dude tell me what's up. You've been kinda distant lately. Classes bugging you? You know I told you that you should drop out of shop. You suck balls at that shit." Dave said seriously. John also sat up to face Dave.

             "Nothings wrong, I'm fine. Just with finals and all... I never realized I was distancing myself. Sorry man." John lied simply. He hated it, lieing to Dave. But he was used to it by now. Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades, and made it obvious. John rolled his eyes back, "Come on lets finish your movie." Dave knew something was wrong by now, normally John would do anything to get out of one of your animes. Dave raised another eyebrow and grabbed Johns wrist lightly, lifting his arm up playfully.

             "Dude are you broken?" Dave asked, looking under Johns arm as if he could find a mistake somewhere on John's body. As if he was simply a robot and a switch had been turned off. Dave repeated the process to Johns other arm and John forced out a nervous laugh before snatching his arms away. But not before Dave caught sight of a red dot on Johns normally perfectly groomed lightblue jacket.

            "What the fuck?" Dave asked, reaching for Johns arm again. John pulled back quickly and backed himself against the wall his bed was pressed to. He didn't want Dave to know. He didnt want Dave to judge. He didn't want Dave to pity him. Most of all he didn't want to be ratted out. To be caught and be forced to stop. He just wanted it to remain his secret. Dave scooted forward, closer to him. Slowly and with caution. John held his arms protectivly across his chest and glared at Dave.

            "Its nothing, just an accident in shop class." He said in a voice that would convince even himself if the facts werent so painfully obvious. Dave however decided to play along with Johns lie. He could see the fear in John's eyes and didn't want him darting off, with Johns eyes constantly flickering around the room he was scared he would.

          "Dude I told you that class was bad news. Why don't you let me patch that up for you, I'm pretty handy when it comes to that shit due to my bros and my strifes on the rooftop." John shook his head with a small smile, knowing that if Dave saw how clean the cuts were, he would know the real story.

          "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I already put gauze over it." He said, brushing Dave away.

          "It doesn't seem to be helping much, come on. It will be no problem, lets go to the bathroom." Dave said, smiling softly as to reassure John. When John couldn't think of another excuse quick enough he just slowly nodded his head and looked down ashamed. Dave took Johns hand gently and lead him into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet lid. He took Johns arm softly and carefully raised the sleeve. John wouldnt look at him the whole time and kept his gaze on the white tile floor. Damn. The gauze was covered in large splashes of red and the smell of copper drifted heavily from his skin.

          "Jesus Christ Egbert what exactly happened in class? Why didn't they send you to the nurse?" Dave asked, trying to stop the frown from spreading on his lips. Trying to stop the tears from welling in his eyes. A Strider always remains strong. John stayed silent. Quiet tears sliding down his cheeks. Just a few more seconds and Dave would litterly unfold John's life. Right there in their dormitory bathroom. And he did. Dave carefully began removing the bandages, John had to bite his lip and force himself not to get up and run. The only thought that ran through his head; it was all over. Dave was silent for a long time. The bandages had been on the floor for minutes now and neither boy said anything. They both knew what had happened.

          The clean cuts running every direction all over Johns pale skin made everything perfectly clear. Dave's heart had shattered. He couldnt think of any reason as to why John would do this, how anyone or anything could bring the innocent angel to this. He straightened himself up after memorizing every bloodly line on Johns arm and walked away. This time John looked up. He watched in a hushed silence as the blond boy, his best friend got up and just walked away. He knew it. He knew he should have never let Dave found out and he hated himself. He hated himself more than ever. He couldn't even harm himself without fucking up. Everything John did was a failure. Shop class, cutting and even his best friend. He cried. He cried hard and fell from the toilet seat, reaching out for the direction Dave had headed but refused to stand up. He couldn't. He was both physically and mentally too weak to stand, let alone run after Dave. He cried hard, his sobs racking through his entire body. He wanted to throw up. So he did. He pulled himself across the floor than heaved himself up with the shelf of the sink and fumbled with the medicine mirror. His blades, his blades. He needed to cut. He needed to see and smell more blood than what was on him. He needed to end it all... Nothing was worth living for. Not after losing Dave.

           He reached up for the ring box, his knees weakening and causing him to pull down the shelfs inside the mirror. Everything tumbled out. Pill bottles, toothpaste, Dave's hair gel and most importantly, Johns blades. John curled into a ball and clutched the small box tightly to his chest as he cried and coughed out how the metal was his only friend now. He opened it with pale shaky hands and grasped the blade firmly. He held it up to his neck, though small, enough cuts in the right places and penetrating deep enough would surely end him. He raised the blade, his hands no longer shaking. He didn't need a giant tool to help him. He didn't need to know how to turn on a heavy duty saw. He just needed to actually lose everything. And now he had.

             He made his first incision. Then his second and third. All he could feel was the pain. The pain and tears and the feeling of his soul litterly being ripped from his body. Then it all went black.  Dave walked back into the dorm holding a bag. He went to the bathroom, "Hey I went and got some stuff for your injuries, your going to need some stitche-" he looked down and the blood covered floor and froze. Jesus fuck. No. NO. Tears blurred his vision and soon Dave was on his knees in the blood, cradling his friend. Sobbing apologies to his cold corpse.

           "I'm so sorry, John no, please be okay, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have stayed, fuck I'm sorry John." he mumbled into Johns neck. He petted Johns hair and sobbed hard into his body. It couldn't just...end like this Dave pulled out his phone and called 911. As soon as he heard the click he choaked out a, "Yy bestfriend just commited suicide please help." He sobbed loudly and was just barely able to give the lady on the line an address.

           John opened his eyes. And shut them again. Everything was bright. Too bright. And loud. There was a large beep that went off what seemed to be every second. John couldn't feel his body and wondered if he was dead. He couldnt move. Only open and close his eyes. He decided to keep them closed. There were other noises too. Voices. Frantic ones that John couldn't make out and sounded miles away. John tried to say something. Ask what was going on. But no sound came out. John didn't even know if your mouth had moved.  John decided to not do anything and just sit there. At least he thought he was sitting. Maybe he was standing? Or possibly laying down. He couldn't tell. Is this how it felt to be dead? He didn't know if he liked the feeling or not. So he just decided to deal with it. His brain was foggy and he couldn't think of much, or concentrate on anything. Every so often he would venture, open his eyes to the blinding light and then shutting them again because it hurt. Being this way for eternity would suck ass. Everything went black again.

            It was serval days before John was able to open his eyes again. Several days of Dave sitting at his bedside, holding his hand and shamelessly letting the tears fall down his face. Dave apologized often and asked unanswered questions. The day John woke up was no different. A blue eye blinked open, than the other. He gazed upon Dave with a look a mix of worry and joy. Was Dave dead to? Why was he here? Was he going to yell? Johns mouth was dry and he still couldn't move. He just watched. And listened. It took Dave a few seconds to realize Johns eyes had opened. That his heart monitor had picked up. But when he did he immediately shut up and threw himself (carefully) on John to hug him. John didn't react. He only lay there. And blinked. Dave pulled back a little.

          "J-John?" He asked, his voice shaking in nerves. John didn't respond. He only blinked.

         "I'm so sorry." Dave started sobbing again. He squeezed Johns hand and cried, apologizing over and over. John didn't react. He was confused though. Dave was crying? Why? Was that even possible? A doctor walked in and gently pulled Dave from the bed and took him to the corner of the room. Johns eyes followed emotionlessly.<br />

        "Now Mr. Strider. Because of the things John did to himself, there's going to be some problems with his health.." the Dr said. Dave wiped his eyes under his shades and nodded, "As long as he lives."

       "Yes... Well he will be needed medicine for quite awhile, possibly forever. And someone to care for him constantly. He could have some brain damage as well as physical damage that might make him unable to do simple daily things." The doctor went on. Dave nodded, "I'll take care of him."

       "And one more thing...John may never be able to speak again."

         This made Dave freeze. He looked over at Johns bed and choaked back another sob before nodding and repeating himself, I'll take care of him." The doctor left the two boys alone and Dave walked back over to the side of Johns bed where he sat and held Johns hand. He smiled softly at him and more tears slipped from under his shades.

          "Do you remember me John?" he asked softly. John blinked blankly at him. How could he ever forget Dave? His bestfriend. Was Dave stupid?

           "Do you even know what I'm saying?" Dave asked even softer. John looked at him and blinked. Yes you fucktard I know what your saying. Speaking a string of words to communicate you smart shit, John thought bitterly. Dave got a small smile, "Blink twice for yes and once for no." John just looked at him. The fuck is a twice?

           "Do you remember me?" Dave asked again with a little more enthusiasm. John blinked in confusion. What was he trying to do? Dave suddenly became sad again. Did John do something wrong? He was still trying to figure out what twice meant. Dave used his free hand to pinch his nose in frustration.

           "God damnit Egbert. I love you. You don't even remember me but we were best bros and I love you and god damn I'm the biggest fucking idiot on earth and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you John. I didn't know what to say an- I'm so sorry." Dave was crying again. But somehow this pleased John. He was happy that Dave cared for him. Happy Dave didn't mean to bail on him. And...happy he had said he loved him. A tear slipped out of the corner of Johns eye and Dave was quick to wipe it away.

           "I'm so, so sorry bro."

           It was several weeks before Dave was allowed to take John home. He had enrolled both their dropouts and had (with doctors permission) gotten them both plane tickets back to Washington. Dave had set up arrangements to get a house in John's neighborhood. Just a few houses down from Johns Dad. Dave's Bro had helped Dave pay for the house and college was now a thing neither boys would attend. Although Dave did plan on taking a few online courses after settling in with John. John still hadn't spoken, but he was able to walk short distances on his own now. But comunication was still impossible. Dave only got blank looks of confusion and emotionless eyes. If it had been anyone else he would have found it creepy as hell. But with John he felt a bit more comfortable.

           They quickly fell into a normal routine. Dave would wake up. Take John to the bathroom, help him down the stairs, make breakfast, feed him, talk to him, maybe watch a movie, make lunch, help him eat, take him back upstairs into his room, let him nap while he did an online assignment, wake him up for dinner, make dinner, help him eat, make a bath for him and then help him to bed. He didnt mind it much. And John was appreciative of Daves help but didn't know how to thank him. On Wednesdays Johns dad would pick him up and take him to physical therapy. Dave was always hesitant to let him go but he let them go anyway, knowing it would help. John slowly got better. His looks became a little less vancant and he was able to show a few emotions when he tried. He was getting stronger to. He could now manage the stairs on his own and could walk around the house whenever he pleased. He could never do it for long though.

          Dave was pleased with Johns progress but at the same time worried it would get him in trouble. One night, Dave was laying by John in his bed and talking about them. About how he enjoyed the time in college together, and how he wished he could go back and notice Johns scars earlier and be able to handle them better than he had. Maybe then they wouldn't be in this mess. It made John feel guilty and he let a few tears slip. This was never how it was supposed to happen. It was never supposed to be Dave's burden. Anyones burden. Why couldnt he have just died?

         "Dude, man don't cry." Dave said, reaching up and wiping John's tears away.

         "Its not your fault, if anything its mine." This made John feel worse and he wanted to throw up. Only he wasn't sure how to trigger the action. John moved his shaky arms. He hadn't quite figured out how to bend them or use his hands very well but he was able to pull Dave into a sloppy hug. Dave held him close and in a hushed whisper he repeated his apologies. John opened his mouth and a low rasping noise came out as he struggled to speak. He wanted to forgive dave. To take the stress off of his chest but no words would come out and John hated it. Dave pulled back slightly and held a finger to Johns lips, "Shh. Don't strain your voice. You might still be able to use it later." John nodded softly and leaned back into Dave's touch. He wanted to apologize for the trouble. He wanted to forgive Dave. But most of all he just wanted to tell him that he loved him too. He wasn't sure when exactly he became okay with the fact, but all he wanted was to say it. Just three words. Even if those were the only ones he would ever be able to say he strained to stay them. He leaned his mouth to Dave's ear and tried again. The same raspy noise came out.

           "I said to stop jackass." Dave said strictly. John shut his mouth and did as he was told. He would just have to wait a little longer. Months pasted, John was doing better. He could function on his own but little things confused him and dave had to repeatedly teach him how to do stuff. At least John could eat on his own now. Unless something needed to be cut. So Dave did that before letting John get a hold on the food. Things were comfortable if anything, and Dave was used to his new life style. But money was low and he knew he would need a job soon. Though both dad and bro were supporting them financially, but the care wasn't going to last for long. Or at least not as generously as it had. But Dave worried about leaving John alone and hiring a caretaker would whip out all the money Dave would make at a job anyway. He considered finding something he could stay at home and do. But most stay at home jobs were demanding and would give him little time to care for John which again, defeats the whole purpose.

              John had gotten a sharpie. Dave could smell it and hear the noise John was making as he scribbled across the walls.

            "John what the fuck?" Dave hissed, walking over now out of thought and taking the sharpie from him. John frowned heavily, all his few emotions were over dramatic. Dave looked around and found the cap on the floor. He picked it up while grumbling and shut the marker.

             "What the fuck were you thinking john?" He asked, looking down at him sternly. John sat there on the ground, continuing to frown. Dave let out a sigh and looked at what John had been drawing on the wall. One large sloppy line. Another line next to it, that slanted at the bottom, and then what looked like a shitty half finished square? Maybe a circle. He sighed again. He was going to have to buy paint now and keep all writing utensils away from John until he was able to write with his hands on paper. Judging by the size of Johns... drawings? If you could call them that, he wasn't ready yet. Maybe within another month or two of physical therapy. Which John happened to have again today.

               "Fuck. You have to leave in an hour and we haven't even gotten you dressed." Dave huffed as he helped John off the floor. John was still frowning. Dave brought John back up the stairs and into his room where he pulled out a pair of Johns clothes. He didn't have to help John change now. Occasionly help with his socks and sometimes even shorts but other than that he was fine.  When John was done (he even had his socks on) Dave helped with his shoes then lead him back down the stairs. Just In time for Mr. Egbert to pick him up. Dave watched the two drive off then went to go try and wash the sharpie off the wall.

             John hated physical therapy. They treated him like a child. They acted like John couldnt understand anything. And although Dave had his moments where he did the same thing, he at least understood that John was still a human fucking being and not a lost baby puppy with a broken back. However John complied with what they asked off him, only because he wanted to be less a burden to Dave and actually able to communicate. He imagined in explicit detail cussing out the therapists for being assholes and then quickly thanking them for their help and running away. Running. John was excited for that. Walking at the pace of a slow crawl was annoying and time consuming. Today luckily, they were working on handwriting. Something John had proven himself unable to do just minutes ago. They didn't start with the alphabet though. Instead they did shapes. Square, triangle, circle. And worst of all that is when John had to draw them he had the doctors hand on his helping. John didn't like others touch. He understood that was his job but he wanted the only people to touch him be Dave and his father. He scowled throughout their whole lesson and the therapist decided that next week they would work on picking things up and holding them instead of writing. God damnit.

           Eventually John was taken back home and he dulled heavily. As soon as his father left him at Dave's house he sat on the ground with his arms loosely crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. Dave could feel the tension radiating off of John and decided a warm bath would help him relax. He let John sulk in the hallway by the door as he filled the tub for him, making sure that the water wouldnt be too hot. When Dave came back down, John was still scowling. And he wouldn't move. Dave finally picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder. He was still light enough to carry around like that so Dave took full advantage when needed to.  He sat John down on the toilet seat and lifted the shirt off of his body. He frowned softly at the scars still lining Johns neck and arms. They would probably never heal but instead be used as a grim reminder that Dave hadn't noticed the problem until it was too late. He traced a finger gently down Johns arm, running it through the maze of scars until he found Johns hand at the end. He squeezed it lightly then helped John, well more like forced, the shorts off him. He was still sulking but his expression had softened some when Dave looked over his scars. Guilt. John felt guilty for making Dave go through all this only to have to give up his own life just to take care of John.

         Dave could have easily found a girlfriend, or boyfriend if that's apparently what he's into, that was a thousand times better then a helpless John. When John was fully undressed Dave helped him into the tub, the only thing John had done without resistance since therapy today. Dave got a washcloth and poured soap on it and gently scrubbed Johns back as he kneeled on the floor beside the tub.

          "Did something happen during physical therapy?" Dave asked in a low voice. John didn't respond for awhile. Then he flicked the water angrily. Dave gave a nod. At least he was trying now.

          "Do you like therapy?" He asked. John flicked the water again, with a little more force. It was the most he could do anyway.

         "We can take you out.." Dave said slowly. He wanted John to get better, but he didn't want him hating the system that was helping him. John didn't move this time. Dave sighed, "This is hard you know. Not being able to carry on a conversation with you. I can't tell what you like and don't anymore. Its hard to make all the decisions for you." John looked down ashamed. He wanted to thank Dave, but he knew if he tried to speak Dave would only tell him to shut up. Dave patted his back and helped John lay down so he could wash his hair and John sighed happily. He liked when Dave washed his hair. He liked when Dave gave him attention, which was often. But at the same time he hated it. Hated Dave wasting his time. John tried to kill himself and the only thing he accomplished was killing Dave's social life. Sure sometimes Bro and Dad came over. And during holidays the girls would come down for Christmas. But everyone looked disconnected from one another. And it was all Johns fault. Dave silently finished washing John and helped him out of the tub before wrapping a towel around his body.

           John looked so much better than when they first moved here. He was now eating normal portions and was slowly but surely gaining his weight back to healthy standards. Dave walked him to his room and got him fresh clothes. Then the two went down stairs for a movie. John fell asleep on Dave's shoulder halfway through, he made soft noises in his sleep. What sounded like inaudible mumbles of words or phrases. Dave held the raven haired boy closely, petting his hair as he strained to hear Johns voice again. The voice he missed and yerned to hear again. But everything was full of raspy syllabus that made no sense. More weeks passed. Johns sleep talking became a normal thing. He did a better job of talking in his sleep than he did while awake and Dave had to ask the doctors about this. They didn't know why, but they told Dave to make sure he was drinking plenty of fluids, especially before bed.

            John had finally been able to start writing as well. Dave bought him a small white board and marker. John spent a ton of time alone in his room practicing. Waiting till he was able to write the three words he desperately wanted to say perfectly. Whenever John was alone he would write the phrase than erase it and repeat until Dave came in. Johns writing was mostly eligible but that didn't stop either boy from trying to have a conversation. On occasion Dave could make out a word or two of what John was saying, and he helped John practice. With Dave's help John was able to spell out his own name. He wanted to learn Dave's, but Dave couldnt get the hint and John added that to the list of words he would practice when alone. He stayed up late with his white board and Dave had already bought John several new markers. Dave was happy for John, and even more overjoyed that they might finally be able to communicate with more than just head nods and simple hand motions.

           Some time after, John had finally made his words readable. They weren't great, but he didn't want to wait any longer. He waited until he and Dave were on the couch watching a movie. While cuddling into him, awkwardly because John still had trouble controling his body, he reached for his whiteboard. Dave paused the movie and handed it to him.

          "What's up dude?" He asked, watching John carefully write something down. He took his time and hide the board from Dave's peering eyes. When he looked it over, he frowned. It was still sloppy and he considered erasing it and waiting till later when he could write better. But he finally sucked it up and slowly turned the board around. Dave read it over quickly, then read it again slowly. Looking at each bend of every sloppy letter with a smile.

          "I love you to, John." He said softly. John frowned. He didn't get it. He quickly erased the board and scribbled down another word in haste. 'Really' Dave chuckled and nodded, "Yeah I know." John frowned even more and opened his mouth.

          "N-no." his voice was harsh from not speaking in so long and it almost sounded as if a creature had said the word. The voice wasn't Johns. Either way, Dave was shocked. And impressed.

           "You spoke.." he said with a smile. John rolled his eyes, not impressed with himself. He just wanted Dave to grasp the feelings he harbored. He leaned forward, parting his lips slightly as he inched closer and pressed his lips softly and weakly against Dave's. Daves eyes widened behind his shades in Shock and he hesitatly pulled away, "John.." John frowned and leaned forward again. Dave had said he loved John hundreds of times, why wouldn't he kiss back?! Dave sighed and sat up, "Look Egbert, I know I'm practically the only one your age thats here for you right now. And I know you know that I have those feelings towards you. But I don't want you forcing yourself on me." John scowled and grabbed his whiteboard. 'Before' Dave raised his eyebrow in question but it eventually clicked. Before any of this. John had loved him before it all. Dave's lips twisted into a sly grin and he planted a quick kiss on johns nose.

            "Me too Egbert." he whispered. John smiled and and tried to kiss him again, this time Dave complied to his wishes. John reached up and cupped Dave's face weakly, his small fingers curling around Daves shades. Normally when John would try to take Dave's shades off, before this, Dave would shove him away and go to sulk for a few days. But now he just froze.<br />

           "John... no." he commanded. John ignored him and slipped the shades down his face. Dave closed his eyes and John lifted his face gently. It was sevral seconds before Dave opened his crimson eyes. John looked at them curiously. Was that, a natural color? He couldnt remember. He didn't care.

           "I'm sorry..." Dave whispered, eyes flickering downwards. John was confused. Why was Dave sorry? He wrapped his arms around Daves neck and hugged him as tight as he could. And slowly he felt Dave's arms wrap around him. And they both figured in that moment, that everything would be alright. THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys hope you enjoyed the story! Putting this up temporarily: I'm running for promstuck princess out here where I live and I'd love some votes. Anyone who has a tumblr can do it! To vote just go to the-secretsurprise and send them an ask saying that you're voting Lexi Aven for promstuck princess! Thank you guys so much it means a ton!<3


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